By MarkNorth
The following is a fictional tale centered on an actual stay at “Men’s Central Prison” in Southern California in early July. The storyline is part of the fantasy role-play that encompassed the visit; but all of the bondage scenes described are real. The Officers at MCP are well-versed and well-equipped in bondage and role-play, which allowed me to drift into the desired “headspace” rather easily. Thank you to Bind, Hawk, and Rob for a great trip!
By JocKDieseL
I’ve made several references to the time when I was 19-20 years old and lived a 24-7 Dom/sub lifestyle with John, the man I called my “handler.” I’ll write more about him and our time together, but I wanted to give everyone a reality check on that situation.
Yes, I had some amazing experiences. I felt like a rock star with all the attention paid to me. I was groomed for performance like an athlete or a racehorse. I was worked out, nearly naked almost all the time, measured biweekly and my progress monitored. I was told what to eat, when to sleep, and how to behave. I was dressed in great clothes by my handler John, and paraded around at parties like a trophy. I was to be the picture of raw youth, John’s “diamond in the rough.” I was charming, deferential, devoted, smart, with just enough dirt under my nails to keep me “in my place,” unrefined and sexy, to impress John’s acquaintances. John was proud of me, and I was proud of myself.
By Mister-X / Spartan
The phone rang. I picked it up. “Vincenzi’s Removals.”
“This is a special job.” I recognized the voice as someone I had done business with before.
“Who?”
I was given a name and an address.
“Any special problems? Public official? Wife and kids?”
“No, just a big pain in my ass.”
“You know my terms. Cash only, half up front, half after the job is done.”
By hard slave
How did it all start? I never considered myself submissive. If anything, I always took the lead, picking the restaurants, paying the tab, ending the night on top. And the whole leather-s/m scene struck me as a bit of silly play acting. I never thought I’d end up in some guy’s basement, trussed up like a turkey.
By Strappeddown
When the sun rose bright through the glass block windows, I knew it was time to rest. Long ago I stopped fighting the men who would come to secure me. It was futile to resist them. There were always too many of them, and they were strong and knew all the ways to force me. It was easier after that, they didn’t ratchet the straps so tightly, and often I found myself secured on a mattress in warmth and comfort rather than spending the day shackled on the cold concrete.
By Marknorth
I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the heavy knock on my door. It was quickly followed by more rapid-fire pounding. My mind was racing as I quickly pulled on a pair of sport briefs and half-jogged to the front door. I had come home early and was hoping to have a nice. quiet Friday night and relaxing weekend.
The door almost flew off its hinges as it was slammed open the moment that I unlocked the deadbolt. I caught a quick flash of uniforms and barely heard the shout of “Police!” as I was thrown against the wall.
By Unknown
There is a chain locked around my neck, symbolizing that I am owned, like property. It’s a mark that someone has claimed me. I can’t take it off. I eat, sleep, shower, exercise, relax and basically live my life with it locked around my neck.
By Pablo Greene
SEX, DEATH, AND SUNSHINE
I tasted freedom in this lost edge of the world, and the shadows cast by the sun reminded me that I hadn’t seen another human being in these hills for weeks.
My journey threatened to destroy my body, but I enjoyed its hardship and how it toughened the skin on the soles of my feet, how it built calluses in places they had never existed before.
Continue reading How to Kill a Superhero: World Without Daylight
